


Breaking Stiles

by darktwistedmusings



Series: Breaking [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bestiality, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugging, Extremely Underage, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Oral Sex, Rape, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24274744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darktwistedmusings/pseuds/darktwistedmusings
Summary: Stiles' misbehaving is out of control - his father has too much to worry about between his ill wife and his job, so when Peter Hale offers to keep Stiles on his farm with him and his nephew for the summer, John jumps at the chance. Too bad Stiles was right to not want to go.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Peter Hale, Derek Hale/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Original Male Dog Character(s), Stiles Stilinski/Original Male Dog Character(s)
Series: Breaking [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752328
Comments: 27
Kudos: 413





	Breaking Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday gift for a very amazing friend. Or at least the start of one ;) This will be a series and it will get worse.
> 
> Also, this is FICTION, so like...remember that and don't read it if you don't like it. I will not tolerate nonsense.

Stiles wasn’t a bad kid, per se, but he couldn’t deny he’d been acting out ever since his mother went into the hospital. It wasn’t his fault, he was scared and angry. The problem, though, was that his father could no longer ignore his behavior. Lucky for him, a local who’d had a complaint about Stiles had also offered a solution. Peter Hale owned a farm a couple hours outside of Beacon Hills, and since summer was just gearing up, he could use some help tending the animals. When the man had mentioned that he’d be happy to keep Stiles on as a boarder too, what with his mother being in the hospital and his father tending to her and to his job, John couldn’t have been happier. Stiles, of course, was decidedly not. He railed and raged, didn’t buy for one second the ‘just like summer camp’ line his father tried to pull. For a 10 year old, he had a surprising amount of foul language banked for such an occasion. It didn’t matter in the end, John packed his belongings up and marched him to the cruiser. It was a frosty couple of hours in the car, but neither one was willing to break it. Stiles tried his last resort when they were buzzed through a very intimidating metal gate, the car winding up a long drive towards a farmhouse still in the distance - he started crying, begging and pleading his father to take him home, promising he’d behave if only he wasn’t made to spend the entire summer here.

“What if something happens to-to mom, when I’m all the way out here?”

“Nothing is going to happen to her that I couldn’t come collect you for - she’s getting treatment, she’s going to be alright. The doctors said so.” John wouldn’t budge, even if there was a tiny bit of guilt nagging away at him that Stiles could be right - even with a positive diagnosis, sometimes things went wrong. But if that happened, he’d just call Peter - the man had assured him he’d have no trouble bringing Stiles back in case of emergency. Stiles’ tears lasted almost until they were right in front of the house, burned away in another bout of rage. John gritted his teeth and ignored the yelling as he threw the cruiser into park, grabbing Stiles’ duffel from the backseat and then stomping out of the car. Stiles was out before John could reach the passenger side, face twisted into a scowl.

“Hey John, I’m glad you were able to bring Stiles up today - there’s quite a lot to do and I am desperately in need of some good help.” Peter came through the front door with a smile on his face, seemingly oblivious to the tension - though more likely just ignoring it. Stiles aimed his scowl at Peter instead, but got nothing but a winning smile in return. John held out Stiles’ duffel to him, leaning close and beginning to tell the boy that he’d be alright, that his parents loved him and they’d be seeing him again soon, but Stiles cut him off, yanking the bag from his father’s hands.

“I hate you, I’ll never forgive you for this.” Big words from a child, but they still stung. 

“Well, I love you, even when you’re being a brat.” John turned his attention to Peter after that. “Let me know if he’s giving you problems and I’ll come back and collect him.” Peter just laughed and waved a hand at John.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m used to angry kids - I’ve been taking care of my nephew ever since he hit his rebellious stage. Stiles couldn’t possibly be more trouble than he was.” John’s brows lifted but he just shook his head. He stepped forward and shook Peter’s hand, thanking him again for this, and then he was back in the cruiser, driving away. He could see Peter and Stiles standing, side by side, in his rearview. Stiles’ arms were crossed over his chest, but Peter was waving, one hand resting on the boy’s shoulder. John didn’t imagine it would be more than a few days before Peter was calling him to collect the boy, but he was grateful for the reprieve either way.

***

Peter kept his smile on and his wave going until he heard the whirring of the gate to the farm, indicating the car was headed out. As soon as it clanged shut, he tightened his grip on Stiles’ shoulder, making the boy yelp before he bit it back. Peter smirked to himself and used the hard grip to steer the boy up onto the porch and into the house. He bypassed the living room and pushed the boy straight down the hall to the first open door.

“This will be your room for the summer, I expect you to keep it cleaned up, no leaving your things everywhere. Unpack your duffel into the dresser and then come back to the living room. We have a lot to do today.” Peter’s tone was no-nonsense and he was pleased when the boy didn’t bother arguing. He released his grip with a slight shove towards the dresser before turning on his heel to go back and wait in the living room. It took Stiles longer than it should’ve to get out there, Peter was sure it was a tiny rebellion, but he let it go, knowing he’d break the boy of such things soon enough.

The first day was exhausting, Peter dragging Stiles all over the farm, briefly demonstrating how to do the chores before insisting Stiles do them. He knew the kid was pissed, but he did it all without argument, probably figuring he’d save it for when he thought he had a better chance of getting his way. Peter honestly didn’t care what his motivations were, so long as the chores were done. It was demanding work, mucking the stalls and cleaning the dog run. There was more to be done but the boy was young, his body still weak and growing, so it took longer than Peter anticipated. When the sun started to hang low in the sky, Peter called a halt and led the boy back to the house.

“Bathroom is the second doorway on the left past your room - go shower, you stink.” Stiles turned a scowl on him but stomped off in search of a change of clothes and the bathroom anyhow, no doubt able to smell himself. Peter washed his hands in the kitchen and headed towards the living room when the yell came, making him smile.

“There’s no door on this bathroom!” Stiles’ voice was full of indignation and upset, but Peter took his time sauntering down the hall, face a carefully crafted mask of confusion. 

“What’s the problem?”

“I just said. There’s no door. How’m I supposed to use this?”

“The same as you use any bathroom Stiles. Get in there, do your business, and shower. Or stay filthy and go to bed in your room without dinner - people who refuse to wash don’t get to eat at the table. The choice is yours.”

Peter watched as Stiles swallowed hard, the options bouncing around behind his eyes before his scowl became a wobbly glower and he moved past Peter, back to his room. The door slammed behind him and Peter just shrugged - he knew the boy would give in sooner rather than later. He walked back towards the kitchen, flipping the lock Stiles hadn’t noticed on the outside of his bedroom door as he passed it, and went to fix dinner for himself and his nephew.

***

Stiles was irate when he tried to sneak out of the room later that night, only to discover the door wouldn’t budge. He’d gone in without dinner and without using the bathroom at all, and no amount of banging or shoving at the door got him free. When he went to flip the curtains back, figuring he’d just slip out that way, he discovered the windows covered with bars. None of it would’ve been that big of an issue if he hadn’t been working outside in the heat all day. Stiles had probably drunk half his weight in water throughout the day, and he’d been holding off on peeing because Peter didn’t really take any breaks, and he figured he’d go when they went back inside and he showered. Except, that was hours ago. He’s not even sure how many hours now, because he’d angrily collapsed down on the floor with his back against the door and then fallen asleep after all the hard work.

Now Stiles’ bladder was aching something fierce, his body tingling and in pain, but it didn’t matter how many times he knocked on his door or yelled to be let out, nobody was coming. He couldn’t hear a thing at all from the rest of the house, and he couldn’t help the fat tears that started sliding down his face as he thought about how far he was from home, how alone he was here. The throbbing in his body got worse and worse the harder he cried, and he could only hold on so long before it gave up on him. He was at hysterical levels when his body finally unclenched, pissing painful after fighting against it for so long. His shorts soaked through in seconds, the stench rising up in the air and making him choke through his sobs. He was making so much noise he didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the hall, didn’t hear the snick of the latch on the outside of the door, didn’t realize any of it until the door was pulled open and he fell backwards, the top half of his body flopping into the hall.

***

Peter had to force himself to hold back the smirk that he could feel trying to form on his lips. He knew the boy would have trouble but he didn’t imagine he’d see him humiliated on the first night. But there Stiles was, face red and blotchy, covered in snot and tears, his shorts and underwear saturated with stinking piss, his chest heaving with his cries. Peter did his best to arrange his face into concern, help the boy stand while clearly wrinkling his nose and keeping distance, ushering Stiles to the bathroom he’d refused earlier.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and into the shower then, get you cleaned up.”

“I-I...don’t want…” Before Stiles could complete his thought, whatever that might be, Peter interrupted.

“You stink like an animal, surely you don’t want to sit in your own piss all night?” His voice was sharp, some incredulity creeping into the tone, and he shifted his expression to show some mild disgust as he turned to face Stiles. Peter felt a flare of satisfaction when Stiles flinched and hunched in on himself a bit - he’d never dreamed the kid would be so easy to manipulate with just a few choice words. Clearly he wasn’t going to have to work nearly as hard as he expected. Especially when Stiles turned his back and started to jerkily strip his clothes off.

“There’s a good boy, I’ll grab you a towel and change of clothes.” Peter softened his voice, affected a fatherly air, and stepped out of the bathroom. He glanced down the hall when he heard the rustle of fabric, smirked and winked at his nephew who’d come out to see what was going on. Peter hadn’t introduced them yet, so when Derek raised a brow to ask silently if he should ‘help’, Peter just shook his head minutely and went to Stiles’ room. He stepped carefully over the puddled piss and snatched the boy’s duffel. He waited until he heard the shower turn on and the drag of the translucent curtain before stepping out of the room.

Peter quietly slipped to his own room at the end of the hall, dumping the contents of Stiles’ duffel out and rifling through the clothes, tossing most of it out. When he’d discussed this option with the sheriff and gotten confirmation, Peter had done some special shopping. He put his new purchases in Stiles’ bag, mixing things around and hoping the boy hadn’t packed his own bag. When he was through, he took the newly packed duffel back to the hall, grabbing a small towel and setting both in the open bathroom before settling with his back against the hall wall and waiting in front of the open doorway.

Stiles is clearly embarrassed when he pulls the curtain back and goes to step out of the shower, his slim body on full display. Peter smirks then, waving his hand at the boy as he goes to cover himself with his hands before finding the too-small towel Peter had picked out and trying unsuccessfully to wrap it around his waist.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Stiles blushes deeper and Peter chuckles. “We’re all men here aren’t we? Same body parts, no reason to be embarrassed.” Peter stands and steps closer, leaning against the empty door frame, acting nonchalant. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want to wear so I just brought your bag,” he nods his head at it and continues, “once you’re dressed, I’ll show you where the cleaners are so you can take care of the mess in your room.”

“Why’d you-” Stiles trails off, still trying to keep himself covered and flushing again, likely at the memory of being found in a puddle of his own piss.

“You made it clear you didn’t plan to stay here, and your safety is my responsibility. I couldn’t have you running off in the middle of the night. I didn’t imagine you’d have any...issues.” Stiles’ flush gets deeper again but Peter ignores it, gesturing with his hand for Stiles to pick out some clothes and get on with it. He watches Stiles fumble through his bag, trying and failing to keep the towel covering him, enjoying the sight of the boy’s pale ass, the flash of his hole when the towel slips as he’s bent over. It’s even more enjoyable when the boy’s face becomes more and more confused, not recognizing most of the clothes in his bag. He eventually digs out a pair of underwear Peter knows will be too small, alongside some equally small sleep shorts. He’s got to give up on the towel entirely when he bends to pull the underwear on, and Peter gets an even more enticing look at his tight little pucker. He’s quick enough to lift his gaze before Stiles turns back around, the clothing clinging to him in what looks like a very uncomfortable manner. Peter directs him to the end of the hall, showing him the cleaning sprays and paper towels and directing him to take care of his room and go back to sleep. He waits in the living room, enjoying the shamed hunch of Stiles’ shoulders when he carries the dirtied paper towels through to dispose of them in the garbage. He follows Stiles as the boy goes and washes his hands before slipping back into his room, sees the panic in Stiles’ eyes when Peter grabs the door and begins to pull it closed.

“Wait! Uh, please...please don’t lock me in.” Stiles’ voice is frantic and small and Peter smiles indulgently at him.

“I’m not sure I can trust you to behave - after all you have made it clear you don’t want to stay here, and your father has told me all about the problems you’ve been causing at home.” There’s admonishment and disappointment in his voice and Stiles’ lip quivers, his breath getting shaky as he replies.

“Please, I promise, I won’t...I won’t be a problem, just don’t...I don’t want to have...another...accident.” Peter can see and hear the embarrassed tears start to form on that last word and he pretends to think about it before sighing heavily.

“Alright, I’ll give you a chance to prove you can behave for me. But I wouldn’t advise testing my patience, Stiles.” The boy meekly nods and Peter pushes the door wide open, turning and heading back to his room. He hears the creak of Stiles’ bed before he even gets his own door open and he smiles to himself. He’s sure some of the defiance will return when the day comes, but he’ll deal with it as it happens.

***

The rest of the week is a little up and down - Stiles pushes back whenever he thinks he can get away with it, but Peter has learned which ways work best to shame the boy into obeying. He’s also noticed the way Stiles reacts to the small bits of praise he dishes out, the way the kid puffs up a bit and behaves better for the next several hours. It’s helpful to know - and Peter uses it sparingly, watching the way it makes Stiles even more desperate to earn the kind words. He also watches the way the boy responds to his nephew, seeing the spark of curious interest there, and he talks with Derek about how to fan those flames. By the end of the first week, Peter is sure he’ll be able to have Stiles exactly where he wants him sooner rather than later. The kid doesn’t even argue back when he’s reprimanded, instead curling in on himself in shame more often than not, as if he’s upset to have become a disappointment. Peter keeps a close eye when the sheriff calls, but Stiles doesn’t have a bad word to say, instead mumbling apologies and admitting to his father that this is the best place for him right now, that he’s learning to be better. 

When Stiles ends the phone call by saying he’ll see his father at the end of summer, Peter smirks to himself and pretends he wasn’t listening. The sheriff had already mentioned to him that he didn’t think he’d have much time to visit, but hearing Stiles sniffle and bite back his own disappointment at his father’s words has confirmed it for him. Which means he can move on to the next stage of his planning much sooner than anticipated.

If Stiles notices anything off at dinner, he doesn’t comment on it. Nor does he have much to say when the farm dogs are brought in for the night for the first time since he’s been here. Peter explained a storm was coming in the night, but Stiles just nodded and didn’t ask any questions. He’d worry about having broken the boy too far, but he could tell by the glassiness beginning to film the boy’s gaze that it wasn’t a lack of curiosity so much as it was an induced reaction. Stiles didn’t argue when he was sent off to bed earlier than normal, and Peter didn’t have to wait long to hear the deep snores he’d grown accustomed to when Stiles was out cold. He waggled his brows at his nephew as he headed towards Stiles’ room. The door was open like usual, the boy having quickly adjusted to Peter’s rules in that regard. He spoke softly, volume increasing as it became clear the boy was completely out and wouldn’t be waking. He shook him a bit to be sure before turning at the cleared throat in the doorway. Derek wiggled the jar he’d brought with him in question.

“You don’t have to be quiet, he’s completely gone. Come here and help me get him undressed.”

“You’re sure he’s not going to wake?” Dereks’ voice was soft but Peter just smiled at him and lifted Stiles into his lap, enjoying the way the boy flopped around far too much. It was enough of an answer for Derek, who set the jar down on the nightstand and then reached forward to pull Stiles’ shirt off. He couldn’t help running his large palms down the boy’s scrawny chest, fingertips roughly tweaking a nipple and making the boy whine in his sleep. Peter just laughed, his own hands shifting up to start pinching at both of them, the nubs growing hard and red. Derek turned his attention to the too-tight shorts and underwear, having to yank a little harder than he expected to get them off. It earned another whine of pain, Peter’s grip on Stiles’ nipples making his body jerk harshly between their hands. Derek’s cock twitches in his pants and Peter licks his lips, knowing Derek is a man after his own heart - which isn’t really surprising considering he made him that way. 

When Stiles is completely bare of clothing, Peter reluctantly shoves him back onto the bed onto his stomach, adjusting his legs so one is curved up partially under him on the bed and the other is flopped to the floor. Derek retrieves the jar he’d brought and opens it up, offering it to Peter. He swipes a finger through it and then encourages Derek to do the same, both of them using their clean hand to grip onto one of Stiles’ ass cheeks before smearing their fingers up his cleft. The boy shifts uncomfortably beneath them, but they’re strong enough to keep him in place. The smell is bringing the dogs in too, Peter can hear the clacking of nails on the hardwood of the hallway.

“We can’t forget to smear his fingers with the peanut butter too, have to make sure he thinks he’s done this himself somehow.” Derek’s voice is rough and shaky, clearly affected by what he’s doing, especially when he dips his finger back in the tacky peanut butter and then pushes it against Stiles’ virgin hole. They boy’s breathing hitches and stutters in pain at the intrusion, but he remains asleep, and Peter joins one of his fingers to Derek’s, feeling the resistance in the body beneath him and enjoying it.

“I know what I’m doing Derek, or do you not remember?” Derek blushes faintly at that, clearly being taken back to when his uncle did this with him. He can’t really argue that and so he merely clears his throat and nods his head. Peter smirks at him before whistling for the dogs. They’re a pair of Malinois, a combination shepherd and guard dog, both unfixed. They slip into the room and shuffle right to the boy on the bed, noses trailing up his thighs and tongues darting out to taste the peanut butter being pushed into Stiles’ hole. Peter wipes his finger off on Stiles’ ass before grabbing the jar and pushing three of Stiles’ fingers into it, making sure they’re coated enough for him to draw the wrong conclusions. Derek’s slipped two of his fingers back inside Stiles in the meantime, spreading them and enticing the dogs to take turns flicking their tongues at the boy’s pucker.

“Enough playing, get Chief ready. We need to make sure he’s mounting when we interrupt.” Derek nods and wipes his hand off near Stiles’ messy one on the bedspread before dropping to the floor and tilting his head beneath the more dominant of the pair of dogs. Chief’s cock is already beginning to poke from his sheath, so there won’t be too much work to do. He can hear the messy sounds of the dogs licking the boy as he scoots his face until he can suckle the tip of the dog’s cock, watery precum spurting over his tongue and making him moan softly. A part of him wishes he could stay down here, finish Chief off, but that’s not the plan for today, so he sucks only until he feels most of Chief’s cock slip free of his sheath, and then he reluctantly pulls away. 

Peter is prepping the needle when Derek emerges from beneath the dog, smiling and pleased as he bends down to inject between the boy’s toes. The drugs should wake him up quickly, but not so quickly that he’ll be able to stop what’s happening. They back out of the room and out of sight, listening to the licking and slurping and hearing when the boy starts to wake, softly moaning at the feel of slick tongues against his hole. They can hear when he begins to groggily mumble to himself, waking further and beginning to question what’s happening. It’s even better when the springs creak, both of them knowing that Chief is lifting himself up over the boy. Peter wants to peak around the frame but knows he needs to wait. It’s obvious when Chief mounts him, the boy shouting out in pain and confusion, waking completely.

“Wha-what, ah noooo, nooooooo,” Stiles begins to wail and Peter is sure that Chief has found his mark, the sound of the dog’s balls slapping against the boy’s flesh is unmistakable, mixing beautifully with the cries Stiles is emitting - his body not stretched nearly enough to comfortably take the dog’s cock. They stand in the hall listening as Stiles begs the dog to stop, can hear the squeaks and creaks as he tries to drag himself away, can hear Chief’s growls to force him to stop. Peter knows it won’t be long for Chief to knot, has plenty of experience watching it happen, can tell by the increased whimpers of pain when the knot is beginning to bulge and the dog is forcing it through. He steps around the frame just before Chief thrusts in one last time, locking him into the boy.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Peter inflects his voice with plenty of mock outrage and shock, seeing Stiles try to curl into himself and away from the dog.

“Peter, help, please, I...I...I...” Stiles’ voice is stuttering in time with the grinding of Chief’s hips as the dog works himself through his orgasm. He knows how experienced the dog is, has watched him bring Derek off with the rubbing of his knot numerous times, so he walks around the scene until he can see where they’re joined, see Stiles’ face and his little cock getting hard at each rub against his insides.

“Does your father know you’re a filthy dog fucker?” Disgust ebbs into Peter’s voice, Stiles’ body flushing in shame as he shakes his head, fat tears leaking from his eyes.

“No! No, I’m not, I-” Peter cuts him off with a scoff.

“I can see your hard little prick, don’t lie to me. I can’t believe you seduced my dogs.” When Stiles opens his mouth to speak, Peter cuts him off again. “Don’t bother - I see what you did, stuffing yourself with peanut butter. You’re a sick little fucker aren’t you, making the dogs lick you and fuck you.”

“I didn’t! I didn’t make them, Peter.” Stiles dissolves into further sobs, his body working against his arguments as his hips hitch back into Chief’s grinds. Peter rearranges his face when the boy isn’t looking, feigns a mock concern and understanding.

“You’re saying they wanted this, with you?” Stiles’ mouth gapes some, opening and closing and likely trying to find a way to explain that he didn’t do any of it, but Peter doesn’t let him get that far. “Is this...I mean, I’ve heard of zoophiles, but I’ve never. Are you telling me that you love them Stiles? That they love you?”

“No, I-”

“Well which is it Stiles - either you think you’re in love with them and this was consensual, or you’re a dirty little dog rapist. I need to understand what’s happening here.” Frustration and disapproval ebbs through his words and Stiles flinches back, head shaking.

“I’m not, I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t rape them.” The boy’s voice is a horrified whisper and Peter allows him a soft, fatherly smile, reaching a hand out to pet the boy’s head.

“So it’s love then. That’s...I can’t say I understand it, but I suppose I won’t deny it. I’ll need to supervise the rest of this though - need to see for myself that you’re not forcing Chief and Cinder.” Peter nods at the second dog, it’s cock already leaking and flopped free of its sheath. Stiles frantically whips his head around, whimpering and rocking his hips back when it pulls at the knot, then looking back to Peter.

“I don’t, I wasn’t…” Stiles can’t seem to formulate words but Peter just smiles indulgently and spins a story for him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t judge you for needing two lovers. I can’t say I’ve met any dog fuckers before, but I’m sure they don’t usually last long enough to get you off all on their own. I can see how close you are but Chief’s already turning, his knot will be free soon enough and then I’m sure Cinder will take care of your need.” Stiles looks horrified but Peter pretends not to notice, running his hand down the boy’s flank and pressing his fingers against Stiles’ hole where the knot is bulging it out. He doesn’t miss the gasp from the boy beneath him, nor the way the hole twitches, milking more of Chief’s cum out. 

Peter keeps rubbing gently, massaging the battered muscle as Chief begins to work free, his own cock twitching in his pants when the knot audibly pops out. Stiles’ legs twitch like he’s going to try and scramble away, but Peter deftly pushes down, spreading the boy’s cheeks wide as Cinder makes his way over. His thumbs caress the cheeks gently as Stiles moans when Cinder’s tongue laps at his leaking hole, and Peter knows the boy is done for. The dog doesn’t spend too long licking before he’s hopping halfway onto the bed, his rocket like cock dripping hot splashes of precum over Stiles’ thighs as his hips hunch and he tries to find the hot, wet hole that he knows is waiting. Peter can feel Stiles trying to shift beneath him, working up the courage to say something and stop this, but instead of acknowledging it, he releases one hand and helps guide the dog to his mark.

“Cinder is young, he won’t be as experienced as Chief - so I’m just going to,” Peter’s voice trails off as he watches that tapered tip breach Stiles’ already swollen hole, hearing the boy gasp and whine beneath him, “there we go. Huh, this is most definitely not how I expected my night to go. I’m glad you can trust me with this though Stiles, I’ll make sure you can have your trysts safely from here on out - it wouldn’t do to have something happen to the dogs. Or you, of course.” 

Peter spends the next ten minutes fascinated by the way Cinder is fucking deeply into Stiles, the dog’s cock nearly exiting the boy’s body before plunging back in. His cock looks massive against the smallness of Stiles’ hole, and Peter can’t help but wonder how his cock will look in the same position, and how long it’ll be before Stiles can take more than one cock at a time. It takes all of his restraint not to rub himself through his sweats as he watches the dog rape the boy, especially when it’s clear that the drugs from earlier didn’t take as much hold as Peter expected. Stiles should’ve been far more complacent but he was small so Peter was too conservative in the dosing. He’ll have to remember that for next time, make sure he’s given enough to fall in line with suggestions. Cinder doesn’t last as long as Chief - knotting the boy up tight and continuing to try and rabbit his hips until Peter places a hand on them to hold him closer to Stiles’ body. Stiles’ cock is still hard and leaking, flushed an angry red.

“Ah, it seems your lovers have left you high and dry - maybe next time they’ll be more generous. In the meantime…” Peter reaches down with his free hand, stroking Stiles’ cock as he helps Cinder grind against the boy, enjoying the hitches in Stiles’ breath as he gets close, the way his little cock twitches and dances as he cums in a mostly dry orgasm. He’s fairly certain Stiles had mumbled pleas to stop and not make this happen, but Peter pretended not to have heard. He helps Cinder turn just after, fingertips going back to massage Stiles’ hole and help the knot release a little more quickly. When it’s out, he shoves three of his own fingers in, twisting and turning them to feel all around inside of Stiles’ cum soaked hole.

“Wha-”

“I need to make sure they didn’t hurt you - I’m sure you wouldn’t like a trip to the hospital and having to explain how you got injured?” Peter makes his voice a question and hides his elation at the terror that runs across Stiles’ face. He plunges his fingers in and out a few more times before making a satisfied noise and then moves to stand, eyeballing the peanut butter jar as he moves towards the door. “You can...keep that. Just, try not to play with your lovers without informing me first.”

“Please, Peter, don’t-”

“Tell your father? Don’t worry Stiles, I would never out you as the dog cockslut you are - I wouldn’t want to upset him or make him ashamed of his son.” Peter’s tone is full of mock concern and care, his head shaking softly as he steps out of the room and down the hall. The dogs remained behind, but even over their noises, he can hear the way Stiles sobs at the thought of his father finding out what happened. Peter smirks and rubs himself through his sweats finally, slipping into his room and closing the door when he sees Derek waiting on the bed for him, ass lubed up and in the air. Peter quickly makes his way over, dropping his sweats on the way and sliding into his nephew on the first try, both of them groaning softly as Peter begins to fuck him. He slips his fingers around to Derek’s mouth, pleased when his nephew opens wide, licking away the tacky dog cum and the taste of Stiles’ ass. Peter and Derek whisper their plans together as Peter fucks Derek hard and deep, both of them knowing that the next few days will determine how well they can break the boy, make him theirs. And they’re going to do it, one way or another. It’s going to be so much fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and talk to me on my [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/darktwistedmusings).


End file.
